Broken open

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Words come easy to me

Normally I give the presents, but today I received the best of presents: do my own breathing, have my own talking.

Yes! Off the respiration machine!

The cord is pulled out of my lungs and I can start talking immediately! What a miracle!

And out of bed as well!

Three people help me out of bed. I grasp my halo like it's a life saver (oh well, it is actually). My head feeld very strange, very heavy, I feel dizzy and wobbly and doped, I cannot walk, but I am sitting in a chair writing this! Woo hooo! And real breakfast, real food...and the blackest of all potions. It tastes hard and bitter yet strangely sweet.

In case you wonder what a halo is:

A halo brace is a special brace which is worn to immobilize the head and neck so spinal cord injuries can heal

The halo brace is made up of:

Pins that go through the metal ring and are screwed into my skull.

A movable frame that connects the metal ring to a plastic vest

A plastic vest that supports the frame

A washable liner that goes inside the plastic vest to protect my skin (mine is made of sheepskin, I'm so lucky it's winter!)

This is my model, just in stores for the Fall/Winter 2009 collection:

I think about the kids, having their Saint Nicholas morning and all the presents Jan and I bought last week, just before I fell. Now they are having the party at my parent's place and I am thankful they can all be together now. Not being able to be there is just a small detail...

i think...

As I weep, Guilt, Remorse and little friend Shame enter the room, miserable as ever, trying to take away the good feeling I have about being able to breathe, sit, speak.

The less morphine they give me, the more it becomes clear that my situation is serious. And the more space is given to Guilt, Remorse and Shame.

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.